We suddenly realize that life is in no way lasting, or permanent; no future exists—and nothing we do matters. And in desolation, we howl and scream and rail at the heavens, until, at some point, we do the inevitable: we eat, dress, and brush our teeth. We continue with the marionette-like motions of life, however unhinged it feels to do so. Then, ever so slowly, the illusion takes over again—until we forget that we are actors in a play.
